


it's uneven ground

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Romance, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: We’re a mess, she should say.Or, Irene navigates.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	it's uneven ground

**Author's Note:**

> Another 'monster' verse fic! I can't help it.

-

“this is nice,” irene says. means it.

seulgi snorts. doesn’t say anything but reties her boot laces. their second dry rehearsal starts in minutes.

“i thought i was supposed to say something cheesy this time.”

seulgi grins. “ _this_ time?”

“shut up.”

“no.”

irene’s embarrassed but can hide it. her face is matted with her touchups. she feels like there’s too much gloss on her mouth.

“the girls aren’t here,” she mumbles. maybe, finally. it feels a little weird to say out loud.

seulgi hits her arm. her eyes are heavier than irene’s. they share a matte lipstick. seulgi wiggles her arms into a stretch. “they came to the company practices.” shes’s a matter of fact. doesn’t name names for irene. but then, as an afterthought, says, “she came to your recordings.”

“and sooyoungie got kicked out of yours.”

irene watches seulgi flush and sigh. it’s almost like looking into a mirror. her mouth twitches.

we’re a mess, she should say. but they have known each other too long to really keep saying things like that. under the heavy lights, the dancers ready to start - it doesn’t feel like anything is missing. and so she looks at seulgi that way. quantifies her. rationalizes too hard. hears: she’s your piece. sometimes, it’s just the two of you fit.

but irene knows.

this isn’t what she wants.

wendy has projects.

they all do. but wendy’s projects never stopped even with a rest and recovery time period. it’s the nature of the business, someone told them once. it could have been anyone. not that it matters - but it was either soojung or jennie or taeyeon. definitely in japan. definitely with red wine.

they’re home by two am. seulgi goes straight to bed. only passes joy’s room to hesitate but talking herself through to her own bed.

irene, however, never feels lucky.

she finds wendy in the kitchen.

“you’re not in bed,” she comments, eyeing wendy halfway into their microwave and scrubbing furiously.

wendy looks up and her hair falls into her face. “sooyoungie made popcorn again. attempt number two did make it.”

“what?”

“don’t worry about it,” wendy says, and for the first time, irene notices the lemon water and a pile of song notes.

there is still steam coming from the mug. irene sighs. moves to their sink to grab an extra towel; but mostly it’s to see what kind of damage is done. it’s not that joy can’t cook. it’s that joy has a temper and everything remains secondary on those destructive paths. she’s never had the choice to stay away from those moments. wendy has. and she’s here.

“is she mad?”

“sooyoung?”

irene nods. slides over and leans against the counter. it takes a lot for her not to reach for a towel to help.

“probably,” wendy says lazily. “she has a temper.”

“a big one,” irene agrees.

she eyes the microwave. there’s nothing burnt. even though it smells. there is, however, a strange yellow coating that keeps sliding into wendy’s cloth.

“butter.”

“what?”

wendy snorts. “it’s butter.” she shakes her head. “she tried to melt some in the microwave. took a phone call and accidentally pressed five minutes.”

“oh my _god_.”

“it’s just butter.” they both pause and there are loud whispers coming from the hallway. irene bites her lip and wendy stops. “at least it comes off,” wendy says dryly.

the small talk ends abruptly and maybe irene is just tired. her nerves feel messy. they jumble into her throat.

“hey.” wendy’s fingers are on her wrist. they’re warm; irene doesn’t jump but she stares. wendy stays gentle. “go to bed.”

“i’m not tired.”

“you’re exhausted.”

“what about you?” she asks. means it too.

wendy just laughs. it’s a low sound. too steady to be soft. but it feels like it comes from the back of her throat, uncurling way too close to irene as she tries not to think of things, other things. things that she hasn’t let herself think about in for awhile.

it’s complicated. they’re complicated. it feels a little short-sighted to admit to that. there’s just been too much time in between. some days she remembers she’s a person. a person with feelings. other days it’s just easier to move through.

“where did you go?”

irene blinks. wendy looks amused.

“sorry.” she’s not. she still clears her throat. “just tired.”

“go to bed.”

“slept in the car.” it’s the automatic response. irene watches wendy roll her eyes. “what about you?”

“took a long nap,” she replies, and suddenly, that’s that.

there’s an undercurrent though. it lingers. waits. waits until wendy finishes cleaning out the microwave. somewhere in between that, she starts humming under her breath and irene watches her. maybe too openly.

sometimes it’s easy to hide it in patience.

“she’s not mad at me.”

seulgi’s eyes glitter under layers of eye makeup. the lighting on set is almost too much.

“who is?” irene plays the game.

seulgi still reaches forward. touches her cheek. then her jaw. it’s a rehearsal. maybe. maybe not. they’ve known each other the longest, you know.

“we’re going to start again,” seulgi stops. in her hand, her phone appears. texts light up the screen.

“you should get that.”

irene feels a little vindicated. seulgi ignores her.

they have that in common. being selfish.

“so you’re not going to bed.”

“why are you _so_ worried?”

wendy stares her down. irene shifts uncomfortably, still halfway into her pajamas. she wandered back out after pretending she needed to go to sleep.

“it’s after four.”

“i don’t start recording until the afternoon.” wendy is sitting at the kitchen table now. her mug is empty. “i’ll probably sleep a little later. but you go.”

i don’t know why you’re fighting me, she wants to say. but then does - wendy’s eyes widen a little. a pretty blush pushes itself on her face. or maybe it’s the kitchen lighting. it’s just that all the sudden irene is filled with regret and embarrassment.

“i’m not trying to fight you.” wendy stands. slowly, almost languidly. rolls her shoulders back. “i’m sorry you feel that way.”

“you don’t have to feel that way,” she mutters, trying to backtrack.

“apparently you do though.”

“ _i don’t_ ,” she insists.

wendy says nothing and it’s like all of the sudden, the here and now is her heart on her sleeve. it’s terrifying. not because it’s new - it’s never been new, but always there, ready and waiting and heavy to say your feelings are right here.

her feelings for wendy have always been just that. a deep need for someone else. an insistence that she can’t be with anyone else. irene swallows and tries to look away. she’ll just never say it. sometimes they’re just words; either way, it’s always change.

and maybe that’s the scariest part. everyone else is dependable. but this, this has just evolved into something else.

“hey.”

wendy is closer. from the kitchen table to right in front of irene. sun’s not out yet but their corner of the city is starting to peak in through the balcony window. there’s no play in light. just wendy. then wendy’s fingers over her elbow. then wendy’s mouth hitting the corner of her mouth, ever so slightly.

to call it a kiss is just being lazy. but it unnerves irene. unsettles a weight in her stomach that feels desperate and dangerous and way too present for right now. simply put: her eyes are wide open and wendy’s breath is hot, soft, a tuft a sigh that she can basically taste. and their world, in their small kitchen, feels more than just impossible. i could kiss you, she thinks. her fingers curl but irene grabs her own wrist with her other hand.

she can still stop herself.

wendy pulls away. maybe there’s a smile.

“go to bed, joohyun.”

she does. irene calls it running away.

(in the car, there’s coffee.

seulgi hands her a straw. “weird,” she says, “how everything’s coming together.”

it’s always been messy.)


End file.
